


Stay With Me

by sometimesiwritespn



Series: One Shots [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anorexia, Caring Dean Winchester, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Dean Winchester is Protective of Sam Winchester, Depression, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Description, Guilty Dean Winchester, Heavy Angst, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, Loving Dean Winchester, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panicking Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sibling Dean Winchester, Protective Siblings, Sam Winchester Has Self-Esteem Issues, Sam Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, Sam Winchester Has an Eating Disorder, Scared Dean Winchester, Scared Sam Winchester, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Harming Sam Winchester, Self-Hatred, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers, Upset Sam Winchester, Wincest - Freeform, slight mentions of underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 23:17:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16942590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimesiwritespn/pseuds/sometimesiwritespn
Summary: After being separated for a couple months, the brothers are reunited, and Dean realizes Sam has lost alotof weight.{GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF SELF HARM/EATING DISORDERS}





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This probably isn't very good, I just wrote it in a couple hours because it's been floating around in my head for a couple days. I haven't reread it or anything, so I apologize for mistakes and the like.
> 
> As in most of my stories, there's tons of angst, and heavy trigger warnings for anorexia, self harm, self hatred, etc. There's some graphic stuff, so tread lightly.
> 
> This is my first Wincest thing I've written, so there's that, as well! I hope you guys like it, feel free to let me know what you think! <3

Sam didn’t think that Dean noticed.

But he sure as hell did.

The two had been separated for a couple months now; both working on cases, finding leads, seeking help from Cas when need be, and most of all – trying to figure out how and when they were going to get back to the bunker to see each other. When it became clear that they would be apart for a while, the brothers had splurged on iPhones, so they could FaceTime each other. 

Sam didn’t think Dean noticed the bags under his eyes, or the way Sam’s face was getting much thinner and longer. He didn’t think he noticed the way those hazel eyes that used to shine just seemed to get more dull as the time went on.

But he sure as hell did.

Dean was finally the first to arrive at the bunker, anxiously awaiting Sam’s arrival. He’d checked all the sigils and wards, ensuring all of them were still there and none were broken. He’d done a sweeping check of every single room, even the secret ones, to ensure nothing had somehow gotten in. 

He was just settling down on the couch when he heard a key rattling in the lock. Dean immediately jumps from the couch, striding over toward the door. He feels all the air leave his body in relief when he sees that shaggy mop of hair along with his baby brother plunking his backpack down right next to the door. “Sammy.” Dean whispers so quietly it’s almost a breath, not giving Sam any time to even get his coat off before he’s entangling them together.

Sam felt his breath hitch in his throat when Dean placed his hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down so their lips could meet. The first kiss was fierce – urgent and intense. The second kiss was more gentle and loving, lips hardly brushing together. 

The forbidden love. 

Both Sam and Dean knew they shouldn’t be doing this. They were brothers, for Christ’s sake. And yet, Dean couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t love Sammy as strongly and fiercely as he does now. He remembered their teenage years, their hesitant explorations and Dean’s excuses of “teaching Sam so his first time with a girl would be good”, how Sam’s first time actually did end up being Dean. 

Dean remembered every second of the night Sam left to go to Stanford. He remembered being so damn proud of his brother, knowing he was going to be the best lawyer out there one day. He also remembered the feeling of his heart shattering. Dean knew Sam was mostly going to get away from their father, but he still couldn’t help the little voice in the back of his head that was whispering he wasn’t enough to make Sam stay. 

Sam still remembered the first time Dean kissed him. They’d been wrestling, and although Sam had gotten to the point where he was taller than Dean, he was much more lean and awkward in his body. Dean had easily gotten the upperhand, ending up straddling Sam on the floor. Like it hadn’t even been a conscious decision, Dean leaned down and tenderly pressed his lips to Sam’s.

Dean’s tongue was currently sliding along Sam’s lips, gently asking for entrance, just like that first time all those years ago. Sam was quick to comply, opening his mouth lightly, his own tongue coming out to press against Dean’s. The kiss was hesitant, like they’d forgotten the exact maps of the other’s mouth, needing to trace those lines all over again.

Allowing his back to rest against the closed door, Sam relaxed against Dean. He brought his hands up to cup his older brother’s cheeks, only to lower his arms a few seconds later when Dean finally decided to unzip and slide the heavy winter coat off Sam’s shoulders. Sam had realized how much he missed Dean while they were away from each other – but he hadn’t realized how much he needed this. How much he needed Dean’s touch, his lips, his body pressed up against him.

As Dean deepened the kiss, Sam moaned quietly, the sound being swallowed by his own brother’s mouth. This spurred Dean’s moan, his arm coming to wrap around Sam’s waist.

Sam jumped as Dean pulled back as if suddenly electrocuted, eyes shooting open in confusion and turning to worry when he sees the look of … disgust, or something similar to it, on his brother’s face. “What?”

“What the fuck, Sam?” Dean hisses, looking down at his hand which had just been pressed against Sam’s side, then back to Sam. “What the fuck was that?” When Dean doesn’t receive an answer aside from Sam sending him a confused look, Dean takes another step back and finally gets a good look at Sam. 

Just like when he’d seen Sam walking through that door, all of the breath left his body, only this time it was for the opposite reason. When Sam had entered, his thick coat had hidden his body, and now that he was only standing there in a flannel, Dean could see it all too well. “You’ve lost so much weight, Sam.” He finally says quietly, swallowing hard. “S-Sammy… are you not eating?” 

Sam had immediately turned insecure when he felt Dean’s scrutinizing gaze on him, studiously looking at his shoes to avoid any eye contact with his brother. When Dean finally mentioned his weight, Sam’s cheeks flushed, and he looked like he was about to squirm out of his skin. “M’fine.” He says quickly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “It doesn’t matter.” 

Dean’s gaze went from concerned to pissed in a matter of two seconds. “It doesn’t matter?” He asks incredulously, raising his eyebrows toward his baby brother. “Sam, you’re skin and bones! When I put my hand on your side, I felt your ribs! You’ve gotta be underweight, man, so don’t tell me it doesn’t matter.” 

Dean’s anger only intensifies when he doesn’t get a response from Sam, nor any eye contact. He comes back up to Sam and cups his chin in his hand, forcing Sam’s head up to look at him. “What the hell were you doing over there? Why weren’t you eating?” He demands, keeping eye contact with his brother even though Sam is desperately trying to look anywhere but at him. “Answer me, Sam!” 

“I – I –” Sam is at a loss of what to say, afraid he’s going to say the wrong thing. His lower lip trembles when Dean forces him to continue looking at him, and Sam finds himself quickly blinking back tears. “Y-you remember how about a year ago I started losing all that weight that I’d been wanting to lose for so long?” When Dean nods his head, Sam continues, “I stopped eating then. That was – that was how I lost it all so fast, but I never got to my goal weight. And I… I wanted to get there.” 

Dean closes his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose. “Sammy.” He says quietly, trying to make sure his own voice isn’t wavering. “Sammy, that’s not okay, man. Especially not in our line of work. You looked just fine before you lost all that weight, and after you lost it… you didn’t need to lose that weight, Sam, now you’re just… Look at you! You’re skin and bones.” 

Sam felt his stomach churning, closing his eyes while he bites down so harshly on his lip he’s sure he’s drawing blood, and he doesn’t care. “Let me go, Dean. Please.” He whispers, an actual quiet whimper escaping his lips when Dean roughly pushes him back against the door before finally giving up his grip on Sam’s chin. “Dean, I –” 

“I don’t want to hear it, Sam.” Dean says quietly. “I’m going to go in the kitchen and I’m going to fix you a damn sandwich and you’re going to eat every god damn bite of it, do you understand me?” 

Nodding his head meekly, Sam watches as Dean angrily strides toward the kitchen. His eyes close again, breathing shaky as he tries to steady himself. He knows Dean’s ‘worrying’ mechanism is to just act angry, but that rational thought isn’t helping his irrational feelings toward Dean being pissed off at him. “I know.” He whispers, even though Dean is already gone. “I’m the worst.” 

**********

“Dean, please.” Sam just barely manages to choke out. He doesn’t trust his voice, knowing that if he speaks much more, he’s going to burst into tears. That’s the last thing he wants to do in front of his older brother – his older brother who’s still so pissed off at him. “Please, Dean, I need you to stay here with me tonight. I need it. I need you. Please.” 

It was a week later, and Dean still hadn’t even touched him since he’d accidentally felt Sam’s ribs. Sam’s mind was going crazy on him, reminding him of everything he’d ever done wrong in his life. All of the times he’d let Dean down. All of his greatest sins. He couldn’t blame Dean for wanting to leave. 

Dean shakes Sam’s hand off his wrist, sighing as he does so. “Look, Sammy. It’s not like I’m goin’ forever. I’m just goin’ out to the bar to have a couple drinks and then I’ll be back. A couple hours, tops. I think you and I need a couple hours away from this… tension.” Dean knew he hadn’t been the supportive brother he should be. He was just so worried about Sam – and so pissed off that Sam would purposely do something like that to himself. Dean just needed a couple drinks, a couple hours to clear his head, and then things would be fine. 

“Dean, no, please, you don’t understand.” Sam’s hazel eyes are now shining with tears, which has Dean’s emerald ones looking anywhere but at him. “I don’t – I can’t explain it, Dean, but I need you here with me. Please, stay with me.” 

“I’ll be back in a couple hours, Sammy.” Dean says quietly. He does feel a little bad, so Dean does lean forward and gently press a kiss to Sam’s cheek. “Promise.” 

But once Dean is at the bar, he can’t shake the feeling that something is off. Normally Sam never pleaded for anything like that, let alone for Dean to just stay home with him for the night. He was also always good at explaining his feelings, and this time he’d only said he couldn’t explain it, which was also a little warning bell going off in the pit of Dean’s stomach. Looking to the bartender, he orders two shots of whiskey, downing both of them – one right after another. 

It was to Dean’s surprise that he looked over to the other side of the bar and saw none other than Castiel sitting there. He quirks an eyebrow, glancing around before going over to sit with him. Dean had last heard that Castiel had lost his grace, and he knew he was taking it badly… rather badly, by the smell of Cas when Dean got closer. 

Dean winces as he sits down next to him. “Hiya, Cas.” He says, clapping Cas on the shoulder. “When’s the last time you had somethin’ to drink other than alcohol?” He questions, which makes Cas actually giggle, and Dean doesn’t think he’s ever heard that before.

“Time is such an abstract concept, Dean.” Cas states, slurring his words as he leans on him heavily for support. “Hell, I was an angel and I was millions of years old, in this body that never aged. Now I’m aging! That’s so weird! Time is so weird!” 

Dean’s immediately looking around to make sure no one’s paying attention to their conversation, but it doesn’t seem like there is – or if there is, they’re at least just chalking it up to Castiel being so shit faced he didn’t know up from down. “A little louder, Cas.” Dean says sarcastically. “Alright, you’re done drinking. Can we get some water over here? Like… a lot of it?” 

A couple hours, a ton of coffee, and even more water later, Cas was somewhat sobered up. Certainly not where Dean would want him driving home, but he at least was a little more socially reserved like he should be. Also sobered up to the point where he realized there was something off with Dean. “Are you okay?” 

Dean sighs, grabbing his phone from his pocket and seeing he doesn’t have any missed calls or texts from Sam. “I don’t know, man. Sam… something’s goin’ on with Sam.” He says quietly. “He hasn’t been eatin’, and tonight he was begging me to stay… I’m worried.” Dean confesses. “I’ve been such a douche to him, too, because that’s what I do when I get worried. I get angry.”

Castiel nods his head in understanding. He’s been on the receiving end of Dean’s worried anger far more times than he’d like to think about. “Perhaps if you’re worried, you should call him and check in.” 

“Yeah… yeah, I’m gonna do that.” Dean decides quickly. He unlocks the phone, goes to his favorites and quickly clicks Sam’s name before placing the phone up to his ear. It rings… and rings… and rings… until it finally goes to voicemail. Dean can feel his heart clenching a little bit, so he tries it again, and once again, it goes to voicemail. “We have to get back there.” Dean says hurriedly, throwing money down on the bar for both of their tabs, even though he has no idea if he has enough to cover how much Cas had drank. “Something’s wrong. He would’ve answered his phone at least one of the times I called.” 

Sam’s head jerks when he hears a soft vibrating noise coming from somewhere. He blinks in confusion when he feels something hitting his face, looking up to realize he’s in the shower and there’s hot water falling on him. The vibration makes him jolt once more and he looks, seeing his phone a couple feet away from the bathtub on the floor.

Going to lift his arm, Sam gasps loudly when a shot of pain rips through him. He looks down, eyes widening when he sees the blood practically pouring from his arm – his clothes drenched in water and blood, the bathtub even staining with blood because the water pressure wasn’t enough to clean all of it away. Both of his wrists.

Tears prick in Sam’s eyes as he realizes this time he must’ve gone too far. But he hadn’t changed anything from before, so what had gone too far? How had this happened? Sam slowly turns his head toward his phone again, swallowing hard when he sees Dean’s name lighting up the screen. “I’m sorry…” He whispers quietly, wishing Dean were there to hear it.

The severity of the situation had sobered Cas up right away, so when the two got to the bunker, Cas went in one direction while Dean went in the other direction. Both had guns drawn, afraid of the worst. As Dean is creeping down one of the hallways, he hears a noise, so he starts heading toward the noise, eyebrows narrowing in confusion when he realizes it’s the shower.

“Sammy?” Dean calls quietly as he pushes open the slightly ajar door to the bathroom with his foot, looking down to see Sam’s phone on the ground. As Dean enters more into the bathroom, he can see the shower curtain isn’t pulled all the way – and he can see Sam’s face as he lays on the bathtub’s floor, his face a deathly white. “Cas!” Dean practically screeches, dropping the gun and dropping to his knees beside the tub, throwing the shower curtain back and turning the water off.

Once the water is off, Dean uses both hands to cup Sam’s cheeks, eyes flicking from Sam’s eyes to his lips, back to each eye, desperately trying to figure out if he’s even still alive. “Sammy –” He almost whimpers the name. “Sammy, I need you to open your eyes. I need you to say something, or – or anything, Sam, show me something so I know you’re alive.”

Castiel sprints into the bathroom, breath catching in his throat when he gasps loudly upon seeing all of the blood in the bathtub. He’s immediately on his phone to 911 requesting an ambulance. Dean glances up to Cas, then looks down to where Cas is staring – at Sam’s wrists that were at his sides. “Jesus, Sammy, no…”

Dean hadn’t even bothered to look down at Sam’s body, he’d just looked at his face. A suicide attempt. Sam had tried to take his own life because Dean refused to stay with him. Dean could feel guilt churning in his stomach like a boat in the midst of a huge storm – feeling like he’s going to go overboard any second. 

Reaching to grab towels from the cabinet, Dean very tightly ties one around each wrist, then brings Sam’s wrists together so he can keep pressure on both of them while still using one hand to cup Sam’s cheek, his thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “Sammy, please… you gotta stay with me, okay?” 

“De –” Dean almost cried with relief when he heard his voice and saw Sam’s eyes starting to flutter open, although it was only a little bit. Sam was having a hard time talking, mostly because he was just so groggy and out of it from blood loss. “De – I didn’t – this –” 

Dean shakes his head, a small smile forming on his face. “Shh, baby.” He whispers. It was one of the very few times Dean had ever called Sam a pet name, anything other than Sammy – but he felt if any situation warranted pet names, it was this one. “It’s okay.”

Sam shakes his head, wincing at the dizziness it causes. “No – gotta – don’t understand.” Sam whimpers, wishing he could get a full thought out. All these words are floating around in his head and he knows they make a sentence – he knows what he wants them to say, but he can’t quite figure out how to piece all of them together. “Didn’t wanna kill…” 

Eyes widening a little bit, Dean nods his head, his thumb still moving over Sam’s cheek gently. “I understand, Sammy. You didn’t want to kill yourself.” He sees Sam relaxing a little bit, which causes him to relax a little bit, even with the circumstances. “It’s okay, Sammy.” 

“D-don’t leave. Please.” Sam whimpers out, the once again pleading tone breaking Dean’s heart. The tone he’d ignored earlier and now was stuck dealing with the consequences of this. “S-stay with me. At least – let me explain.” 

Dean nods his head, leaning forward so he can press his forehead against his baby brother’s, not caring about the fact that he was getting wet just from that little bit of contact. “I’m not leaving, Sammy. I’m never going to leave you. I promise.” He clears his throat, blinking back tears. This was not the time for him to be showing how scared he was. He had to be strong for Sam. “You just stay with me, now, okay? Help is on the way. We’ve got an ambulance coming.” 

Sam’s breath hitches in his throat and he starts to try to struggle, which is halted by a “shh” from Dean, along with feeling Dean’s nose nudge against his own. “Think I’m suicidal.” Sam mumbles. “Involuntary – hospitalization…”

Shaking his head, Dean places a soft, loving kiss to Sam’s lips. “I won’t let them do that.” He whispers, accentuating his point with another little kiss to his lips. “You’re staying here with me, even if that means I’ve gotta sneak you outta the hospital once you’re stable. You’re not getting’ hospitalized. I promise.” 

“You better.” Sam mumbles groggily, though there’s a tiny smile on his face, which causes Dean to smile back. “I love you, Dean…” 

“Hey, Sam, no!” Dean says loudly, gently tapping his brother’s cheek. “Sammy, I need you to keep those eyes open. Open your eyes for me, baby.” He pleads, looking up to Castiel in panic. “C’mon, Sammy, do it for me.” 

“Dean, we must go.” Cas says quietly. “We have to get him out toward the road. The ambulance is never going to find us here, and if we don’t meet the ambulance when it arrives…”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence. Both of them knew what would happen. If they didn’t get Sam medical attention right then, it was going to be too late. 

Dean still wasn’t sure how they managed it, but they managed to get Sam out to the road right around the time the ambulance was pulling up. Sam had opened his eyes for a few more seconds, but they’d closed right after. Dean felt like he was getting even more pale, and he knew Sam needed blood right away.

The paramedics jump into action, one of them pulling away the towels from Sam’s wrists. They were completely drenched in blood, and Dean had seen a lot of blood in his time as a hunter, but just the sight and smell of it made him lean over and dry heave. The other one sets up oxygen, as well as setting up a blood transfusion bag once confirming Sam’s blood type. Dean was pretty sure they didn’t usually do that out in the field, but he wasn’t about to question it when Sam needed the blood so desperately.

**********

Dean hadn’t once sat down in the waiting room while they got Sam stabilized and to a hospital room. He hadn’t once sat down, and he hadn’t once stopped pacing. That was his baby brother in there. That was his lifeline, the one person he needed more than oxygen, the one person he cared about more than anything else – in there fighting for his life, all because of Dean’s stupidity and intimacy issues. All because Dean couldn’t act supportive of Sam because he just got mad when he got worried. All because Dean wanted to go have a couple stupid drinks.

“Are one of you Dean?” Dean whirls around when he sees a nurse standing there, hands clasped in front of her. She automatically looks to Dean when he turns, offering him a small smile. “Your brother is not cooperating, and we need him to calm down.”

Dean exhales heavily, immediately wiping his eyes. “B-but he’s alive?” He asks, hating how vulnerable his voice sounds, but at the same time, he couldn’t really bring himself to care.

The nurse smiles again. “Yes, he is alive. But we need to get him stitched up and sedated, and he is not cooperating with us. He just keeps saying ‘Dean’ and ‘promise’.” She says. “Would you please come back with me?”

Turning to look at Cas, Cas gives him a little smile and a nod, knowing he’d be out there for a while longer. But that was okay, he’d been expecting it. The brothers were brothers, and much closer than most brothers, after all. Castiel cared deeply for both of them, but he’d be out there ready to support them whenever they needed it.

Dean follows the nurse back into the hallway, hands rubbing his arms anxiously, looking like he’s cold although he’s not. “He made me promise not to leave him until he could explain.” Dean says to her quietly. “He probably thinks I left him and broke the promise.”

There’s very loud talking, which is then met by loud shouting – Sam’s shouting. He’d know that voice anywhere. Dean speeds up and rounds the corner to where he can see a hospital bed surrounded by doctors and nurses. He pushes through them, going right up by Sam’s head and cupping his cheeks in his hands, forcing Sam to look at him. “Hey, hey, hey!” Dean says loudly until Sam stops shouting, looking up at him in awe. “There we go.” He says quietly, thumbs stroking over his brother’s cheeks. The last thing Dean cared about right then was what the doctors and nurses were thinking about their “brotherly” relationship. “You’re okay, Sammy. You gotta let them help you.” 

“P-promised you wouldn’t leave.” Sam whimpers, hazel eyes wide as he stares into Dean’s greens, an intense look they’ve both shared many times before. “Promised.” 

“I didn’t break that promise, Sammy.” Dean murmurs as he presses his nose into Sam’s hair, his mouth right against his ear. “I was in the waiting room the whole time because they wouldn’t let me come back here. I didn’t leave you, Sammy, and I’m not going to. But you have to let them help you.” 

When Sam whimpers again, Dean soothes him by making a shushing noise in his ear, whispering things to keep him calm while the doctors and nurses finally get him sedated. Dean’s nose stays pressed into Sam’s hair even a few seconds after he’s passed out from the medicine, and Dean can feel himself trembling a little bit, because thank god, Sammy was still alive. 

Although Dean could feel the judging and critical gazes of the doctors and nurses, he sat down in a chair in the corner of Sam’s room and gave them room to work, never taking his eyes off his baby brother. Like maybe this time, if he keeps a close enough eye on him, nothing bad could ever happen to him. 

They kept Sam on a heavy dose of medicine, causing fitful dreams and Sam’s waking every few hours. But each time he woke, Dean could tell he wasn’t quite ready to be up yet – to face the world, the pain in his wrists, and the pain in his mind. He wasn’t going to force him, so Dean just shushed him back to sleep, telling him he didn’t need to be awake yet. 

The time Dean could tell was different was two days after he’d initially been brought into the hospital. Sam started to wake up, but instead of whimpering or whining like usual, he instead just started to slowly flutter his eyes open. “Take your time.” Dean soothes, his hand lightly holding onto Sam’s, like he’s glass and if he touches him too hard, the stitches in his wrists will split. 

Castiel had gone home the day before, with Dean promising to update him if there were any changes. He was going to have to text him soon that Sam was waking up, but first priority was ensuring Sammy was okay. 

There’s a soft smile on Dean’s face as Sam’s hazel eyes finally open and they turn to face him, just staring at him for a few seconds. Dean was just about to speak when Sam’s face crumples, and the situation loses all serenity as Sam starts to cry. “Hey, hey…” Dean soothes, letting go of Sam’s hand so he can come to sit on the side of the bed, once again cupping Sam’s cheeks in his hands and leaning forward so he can let his lips linger on Sam’s forehead. “Sammy, it’s okay, shh… why are you crying, baby?” 

Dean had been such an asshole earlier, and now he was going to make up for it. It was obviously much too late, but no matter how much he wanted to, Dean couldn’t go back and change the past. So, he just had to change the future, and that was going to be by supporting Sammy and doing anything and everything in his power to ensure he was okay. 

“I’m so sorry.” Sam whispers through choked breaths, trying to grip tightly onto Dean’s shirt but the fabric was too thin, and the movement was too much for Sam’s wrists to not hurt. Dean gently reaches for Sam’s hand instead, which gives him something wider to grip onto, so Sam does just that. “I’m the worst – I didn’t, I didn’t mean for that to happen… I – please, just let me explain…”

Dean nods his head, leaning his head down a little bit so he can nudge his nose against Sam’s once again, wanting to keep him as calm as possible, wanting Sam to know that he was here, and he wasn’t leaving. “Okay, Sammy. Tell me what’s goin’ on.” 

“T-the cutting…” Sam takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds while he gathers the courage to say what he wants to. “I’ve…”

A sad smile appears on Dean’s lips as he sits back a little bit to get a good look at Sam. “Been doing it for a while now?” He finishes Sam’s sentence, causing Sam’s eyes to widen in confusion – and a little bit of horror. “You’ve been out for quite a while, Sammy. Not much else to do aside from sleep and look at you.” Dean gently turns over Sam’s arm using the hand that was holding Sam’s; free hand coming to gently skim along some of the marks adorning his arms. “I’m not mad, Sam. Upset that you’d feel the need to do this, but I’m not mad at you.” 

“I – yeah, I’ve been doing it for a while now, and I know what to do… I know how to do it deeply enough that it… well, satisfies, but not so deeply that something like this happens.” Sam’s getting choked up again, Dean gently squeezing Sam’s hand reassuringly. “I didn’t want to kill myself, De, I didn’t want to die. Really, I’m not suicidal!” 

Dean nods, turning Sam’s arm back over and instead placing his free hand on top of the hand he’s currently holding. “I believe you, Sammy. I’ll always believe you. You know that.”

“I just had to do it, so I went to get in the shower like I normally do, and I started and it was – it was so good, but then I got so dizzy… and I think my hand must’ve slipped, and then I slipped so I was laying in the bottom of the bathtub, and the next thing I knew…”

“I was there.” Dean once again finishes his sentence, Sam nodding his head in agreement. “I believe you, Sam. I know you aren’t suicidal. I’m so sorry I left even though you asked me not to. I’m also sorry for the way I was acting like a douche over this past week. I just – I was so worried about you.” His voice drops to a whisper for the last part, looking down a little sheepishly.

Before Sam could respond, someone cleared their throat behind the pair. Dean turns to look, Sam’s eyes finding their way to the door, where a doctor was standing. “I apologize for interrupting. But I do have a theory – Sam, Dean told us on the way in that you haven’t been eating as of late. Is that correct?”

Sam shoots Dean a look, who shrugs his shoulders sheepishly once again. “Sorry, Sammy. But it was something they needed to know.” Sam sighs but nods, knowing Dean is right, then they both turn their attention back to the doctor.

“My sneaking suspicion is because you haven’t been eating, you probably hadn’t eaten before this whole thing happened, had you?” Sam nods, answering that he’s right. “You likely got dizzy because your body was trying to do everything it needs to do without the nutrients it needs. Then, I would assume everything else you said is correct: the slipping, going much deeper than anticipated, and then waking up when your brother came in.” 

They were all silent for a few moments, the boys lost in their thoughts and the doctor giving them a few moments to process. “This is normally the time when we would get a psychological evaluation and see what type of therapy would benefit Sam the most. However,” he pauses, looking pointedly to Dean. “I heard you discussing with your friend that you would be sneaking Sam out of the hospital if we should think inpatient therapy would be a good idea. I also think that you, Sam, have a good support system. So, keeping that in mind, and this is so off protocol that I really don’t even want to think about it, I’m going to keep you here for a couple more days for observation, and then I will allow you to go home with your brother.” The doctor pauses once again. “If you end up back in here for the same reason, though, I am going to make sure you get to inpatient therapy. Are we clear?” 

Sam swallows hard, nodding his head. The doctor then releases his stern look, and Dean thanks him before he walks out the door. Dean then turns back to Sam, quickly wiping his eyes again. Sam gives him a small, surprised smile. “Are you crying?” 

Dean chuckles, shaking his head, though he does sniffle, which ruins his cover. “I’m just so glad you’re alive, Sammy. When I saw you in that bathtub… knowing a good majority of it was my fault… if you hadn’t have made it, I would’ve died right there with you.” 

Although they both know it’s against the rules, Sam scoots over a little bit so Dean can somehow get in the bed with them. They’re both way too large to fit in the little hospital bed comfortably, but Sam wants the comfort, and Dean wants to give it to him; they’ll find a way to make it work. 

They finally settle on Dean’s arms wrapped tightly around Sam, Sam nestled up into Dean’s chest with his nose nuzzled against the crook of his neck, his own hands held protectively between their two chests. Sam knows Dean isn’t the type of person to talk about feelings. He doesn’t like emotions, and he certainly doesn’t like talking about any of them out loud – especially regarding their forbidden love. But Sam doesn’t mind, and he says it anyway.

“I love you, Dean.” Is whispered into Dean’s neck, so quiet and muffled by his skin that Dean hardly hears it.

It’s only fitting, then, that Dean’s response is whispered so quietly into Sam’s hair that he hardly hears it, either. “I love you, too, Sammy.”


End file.
